


A Fantasy

by UnwrittenFantasy



Series: Solavellan Short Stories [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aminthia, Cute, Dancing, Dreaming, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Once Upon a Dream, Solas and Lavellan - Freeform, Solavellan, Solavellan Fluff, The Fade, dream - Freeform, solas x lavellan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:39:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnwrittenFantasy/pseuds/UnwrittenFantasy
Summary: Sometimes even the Inquisitor needs a moment to get away from her responsibilities, even if she can only do so in her dreams.Solavellan fluff.





	A Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

Some days she found it difficult to get out of bed. Her body felt heavy with the weight of being who she was. The Herald of Andraste. The Inquisitor. A beacon of hope in dark times. These were titles she wished she didn’t have. These were people who felt foreign to her. They weren’t her. She wasn’t them. She was Aminthia. An elf that shemlens looked down upon, and the Dalish looked up to. She didn’t want to be looked up to. She wanted to be nobody special, nobody important. Just for a day. 

Tossing, she pulled the covers over her head, hiding from the rays of sun that threatened her with morning. She knew Josephine would be appearing by the side of her bed soon, urging her kindly to get dressed and ready for the day. Oh, how she’d give anything to just sleep. In her dreams she wasn’t the Inquisitor. In her dreams she could run from responsibility and routine. In her dreams her life wasn’t being threatened. It was her only escape. 

But sooner or later, one must wake up. 

Hearing the bird calls outside, she slowly dragged herself sitting, the covers falling from her. Without looking she knew her hair was an unkempt mess. Probably knotted in painful ways. She would struggle with brushing it this morning, she knew. Standing, she stretched. It was euphoric. She grew lightheaded a moment. Note to self: don’t do that again. She held her hand on the wall to regain her composure, shaking the dizziness away. 

Something shimmered in the early morning sunlight. It caught her eye, her head swiveling to see what it was. A dress was draped over her dressing chest, some sort of pendent necklace rested at the top. There was also a note. She made her way to it carefully, wary. She picked up the note. The paper smelled like old musty books. There was a hint of paint fumes. Perhaps cinnamon. The handwriting was in large font, carefully written so a small child could understand them. She still struggled with reading, but these words came to her naturally. 

‘Lethallan,  
The dress is for you. Wear it.   
Come downstairs as soon as you are able.’

There was no signature, but she was sure she knew who wrote it. She set the note down, her eyes scanning the dress before her. It was a pretty shade of green. Everything she wore was green. Vivianne told her that matching her clothes to her eyes made them stand out better. Dorian told her green was a marvelous color on her. Varric said he liked green. 

She picked up the dress, holding it against her small frame. It was long, draping down to the floor. The sleeves were soft. Silk? The fabric of the dress itself was thin. Breathable. There were patterns sewn in gold into it. Leaves and vines. It looked Dalish. 

She managed with little difficulty to get the dress on. Standing in front of her mirror, she stared at herself. Her hands quivered. She lifted one to her face, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looked beautiful. 

She looked beautiful. 

The dress had a plunging neckline, which was a little scandalous compared to what she usually wore. The sleeves were long, ending with small lace ruffles. There was a lot of lace. The fabric clung to her figure nicely, making her look.. not so malnourished. She thought that for a moment, she looked like royalty. 

The pendant went on last. It was a green stone. Perhaps emerald. She tied it around her neck, letting it rest against her chest. It matched the dress. 

She didn’t remember braiding her hair. It wasn’t a tight braid, some strands hanging loosely. She draped it over her shoulder, trying to hide some skin. That was better. Not so revealing. She stared at herself a moment longer. She couldn’t recall a time she felt good about herself. She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful.

***

The door to the main hall loomed in front of her. It wasn’t until she made it all the way down the steps that she wondered of the occasion. Were there people on the other side? Were they expecting her any moment now? Would they stare? Her fingers picked at her sleeves, feeling the lace against skin and nails. She tried not to damage anything. It was a pretty dress. 

She could not hear anything on the other side of the door. No murmur of voices. Silence. 

She took a deep breath. Her hand gripped the handle. She pushed it open. 

The hallway was void of people. But filled with flowers. Each table was blanketed, flowers of various shapes and colors spilling onto the floor. The sunrise was shining in through large windows behind the throne- or where the throne should have been. Instead there stood Solas, the smallest play of a smile on his lips. He was wearing a green suit, similar to the ones Josephine ordered for the Ball at Halamshiral. Aminthia remembered helping her pick out the designs before she sent them to a dressmaker in Val Royeaux. They shouldn’t have arrived yet. She was told it would be another week in the least. But perhaps she was told wrong, for Solas was standing there, adorned in the design she helped create. It looked magnificent on him. Royal.

Speechless, she stared at him, her hand still on the door handle. His hands were behind his back, his shoulders stiff and straight. There was something in the way he stood. Regal. Like he had done this before. He held his hand out, his eyes never leaving hers. “Would you care to dance?” 

No reply came to her right away. Instead of taking his hand, she stared at him. She blinked, the shock of it all starting to fade. “Solas.. What is this?” She glanced around, not seeing a single other person. It was just her, and him. 

He urged her to take his hand. She did, her skin heating when their palms touched. He pulled her to him, his free hand resting on her waist. She blushed. “Solas,” she said again. He held them there a moment, unmoving. “I had heard,” he started, “That you required a day to be yourself. A day off, if you will.” She stared at him, blinking in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”

“A spirit of compassion told me.” He lowered his voice, his smile growing slightly. She found herself smiling as well, unable not to. 

He used his hands to guide her into a dance. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right. “Do not worry,” he spoke quietly, “Just let me lead. Think of this as practice for Halamshiral.” She nodded, looking down at her feet to make sure she didn’t misstep. 

There was no music. Only birdsong. Yet that made it more magical. 

As they spun, time was frozen. It was just them. There. Together. Aminthia found herself closing her eyes, resting her head against Solas’ chest. They had already called each other vhenan. Though only in private. When she opened her eyes once more, they were in the garden. Flowers blossomed all around, a beautiful array of rainbow colors surrounding them. “Ma vhenan,” Solas whispered. She lifted her head, her eyes looking into his. “Yes?” Her voice was quiet. Soft. 

“Are you pleased?” 

She could only answer with a small smile. “This is.. amazing. Perfect,” she pressed herself against him once more, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Why did you do this?”

He did not answer. She took his silence as a reply, though she was unsure of what it meant. 

“Where is everyone?” She asked next, eyes still closed. “They are attending to themselves,” he replied. “I had wanted to let you rest. To enjoy a moment to just be.” She felt him press his lips to her forehead. That is all he ever did. She did not mind. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. She felt her face grow warm. But she did not argue. She always argued. Instead, she finally found the words to say, “Thank you.” And followed them with, “You are so handsome.” This elicited a chuckle from him, and a slight shake of his head. “Maybe when I was young. I find myself looking older everyday.”

“You are still handsome,” she murmured. Her fingers dug into the cloth of his shirt. “Ma vhenan.” They never spoke those words around the others. She took advantage of their time alone. 

He was silent. And after a moment of silence, he caressed the top of her head, petting her hair. “I am sorry, but we cannot stay like this.”

“No Solas please,” Aminthia’s hands gripped him a little tighter. She liked being like this. In the silence. Just the two of them. She felt him shake his head. “You do not understand, vhenan. I have given you what little time I could. But dawn approaches, and you will be needed once more.”

She opened her eyes, lifting her head. His fingers stayed intertwined with her hair. “What do you mean? Dawn has already passed-”

“Not yet,” he said. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I could never do this with as little time as you believe.”

She was confused. A strand of her hair fell into her face. It tickled her skin. It felt so real. 

“We’re in the Fade,” she said slowly. He merely tilted his head to the side ever-so-slightly. “I apologize that I could not give you more.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “This is wonderful. Thank you, Solas.” 

“You are not upset?” He peered into her eyes. Green pools. They matched her dress. She shook her head gently, brown curls bouncing around her face. “This is the best gift you could have given me.” She wanted to tell him about her nightmares, and how they frightened her. She wanted to tell him that this was the first good dream she had had in awhile. But she felt he already knew. He always knew. 

“Wake up, ma vhenan. It’s dawn.”

***

Sunlight beamed across the floor to her bed. Eyes fluttering open, her lashes felt heavy with sleep. But her body did not. Today, it was not difficult to get out of bed. Today she sprang from the covers, her lips curled into a wide smile. She brushed her tangled hair, and threw on her clothes. Her feet patted down the stone stairs to the Main Hall. She opened the door, a few servants glancing up from their duties to smile in greeting. She hurried past them. Past Varric, who watched her curiously, a small grin playing on his mouth. 

She walked into the rotunda. Solas peered up from his book. He smiled. She smiled. He walked over to her. From behind the book he produced a single flower. A daisy from the garden. “I am sorry that I cannot fill the hall with them,” he said quietly. She took it, her face reddened. “This is perfect.” She kissed his cheek. “This is better than any fantasy.”


End file.
